


Colour

by SquaryQ



Series: OtaYuri [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, M/M, Watercolour, colour, idek i thought this would be shippier but it's 4am so sue me!, post-canon drabble, post-canon potential relationship, theme, themed performance, themed skating, themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:46:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquaryQ/pseuds/SquaryQ
Summary: A snapchat message sent from Yuri Plisetsky motivates him to get a move on.





	

Opening another snapchat of the brilliant blond who had recently let him into his life, Otabek’s brows furrow. Yuri Plisetsky, The Fairy of Russia, Ice Tiger Yurio, is stood at the edge of the rink pulling an unamused face, a red circle around Yakov yelling at Viktor Nikiforov.

Otabek sends a quick selfie in reply with the caption _‘Has Yuuri been distracting him or what?’_

It doesn’t take too long to receive a reply to his question. Seconds later another image notification pings on his phone. Otabek, laying on his bed, opens the snaps. The first one is a short three second video of Yuri nodding in response to Otabek’s question. The second one is a radiant smiling photo – captured as if by accident, the quality of the image highlighting the young body of the teen which was about to go through a hellish amount of changes.

Yuri had confided in Otabek and admitted he was afraid of the consequences these changes would have on him as a performer. He said that Viktor was clearly enhanced by the power of puberty but he feared he would draw the short straw and look awkward and unsightly when performing. To the point he had researched the price of the acquisition of puberty blockers to keep him from suffering the painful changes in his body prior to defending his rank as the kid who won gold.

He had been able to convince him to consider talking to Viktor about this instead as he would be able to help much more than he could. Though they were not too far away from each other, Otabek wished he could be closer.

Otabek sighs, a fond smile crossing his lips. What did he do to deserve him?

A third image comes through of Yuri, having been taken by someone else, presumably Yuuri Katsuki or that Mila woman, capturing an image of the blond teen mid-air as he is due to land a quad.

Otabek takes a hasty screenshot. He wished many a time he could land the quads Yuri had done since his senior debut, but he could never execute them as flawlessly and effortlessly as the Russian skaters could.

That reminds him, he needs to come up with a theme for the upcoming season. Another theme. Great. He always struggled to stick to one idea as all of his previous themes had sucked because he couldn’t or wouldn’t relate to them. Meanwhile, the winners always seemed to grasp a whole new dimension to their chosen words.

Last year Yuuri and Yuri had done so well, the true agape held in each step Yuri had made on the ice sent Otabek into a state of awe. Watching the YouTube videos captured by Yuri’s Angels still stunned him, there was something so overpowering and so seamless that the young Russian could just glide through and perform something ethereal and yet emotive. Each move and trick sent chills down Otabek’s spine even after having watched it a good hundred times since the last Grand Prix Final.

Yuuri’s storytelling got stronger as his music progressed – Otabek noticed movements which were taken directly from those who influenced his journey into this tier of skating, including the signature quads of his fiancé Viktor Nikiforov and his current rink-mate Yuri Plisetsky. The ending was so powerful, he couldn’t fathom a clearer conclusion, a hand reaching out to the man who inspired him. Beautiful!

Another sigh escapes Otabek’s lips. If only he could skate as well, or tell stories with such intensity!

He takes a selfie and sends it to Yuri, the caption reading ‘I’m going to give an idea for a theme a try, see ya!’

Putting in his headphones, Otabek breaks into a jog toward his local rink, adamant he must skate something as vivid as what Yuuri Katsuki had done last year. And evoke as brilliant of an image as Yuri Plisetsky had too. This season would be Hell. Everybody was stepping up their games. Everybody knew Viktor Nikiforov was coming back onto the ice to compete against Yuuri Katsuki again and that would break all chances of underdogs breaking through the surface. Hell, there was a chance that Otabek wouldn’t qualify against the others at all. This theme would have to be good.

As he runs, a beat strums through his headphones. His heart pounding in corespondance with his feet hitting the pavement and the keys on the piano. The song carries him the rest of the way to the rink. Upon arriving, gasping for air, he produces his MP3 player and his brows furrow. This was Watercolour.

“I could skate to this…” Otabek murmurs, putting his skates on and putting the song on loop. He glides onto the ice and takes a deep breath, feeling more comfortable here than he did with his body strewn across his bed like a ragdoll of a discarded blanket.

He begins to dance around the ice, his skates cutting a pathway from each point on the rink. As the song builds, he bites his lip before attempting a jump. Landing what he hoped would be a quad Scalchow, was satisfying even though it barely made the amount of rotations it would need to be to qualify as such in competition.

“So close…” he mutters.

“Oi! Otabek!” his coach, Maria says with a wave, “What is this?”

“I’m coming up with ideas for next season…” he replies between gasps for air as the song readies itself to finish again.

“What are you listening to?” Maria asks, her fair hand cupping Otabek’s face.

“A piano version of Pendulum’s Watercolour.”

“Watercolur…Would this be for your free programme, Otabek?”

“I hope so.”

“What does that make your theme?”

Otabek pauses, thinking back to his observations of the skills of Yuri Plisetsky. Each jump shining of  a different tone, burning with searing crimson fury as he gets aggressive and frustrated. Each brilliant jump he made with his arms in the air burned bright blues, bathing Otabek in emotion.

“Colour…”

~

“Colour?” a disbelieving Yuri Plisetsky asks, eyebrows raised over Skype, “Why colour. And more importantly, Beka! Why has it taken so long to pick a theme?”

“Because in a world of skaters being monotonous robots without power behind their steps, all I saw was black and white. Last year? Last year was an explosion of shades of many kinds. It was brilliant.”

A brief silence fills the space.

“And to answer your second question, Yuri,” Otabek replies, “Only the Russian team would be that eager to drill a theme into you. I’m sure many skater’s haven’t picked yet! We’ve still got stacks of time!”


End file.
